At All Costs
by trufflemores
Summary: 3.22. Fix-it fic. Barry gets Iris back.


It's indescribable.

It is absolutely, completely, utterly indescribable.

.o.

Barry carries her in his arms to the only place he knows: the Speed Force.

It's dark and there's no one and he's desperate. "Help me," he whispers, a wail caught in his chest, her weight heavy against him. "Please, please, I'll do anything, I'll—" Hyperventilating, he draws in the deepest breath and screams across the Speed Force, "I'LL DO ANYTHING."

A Flash he knows – his own cowled face, but older, taller, broader, bespeaking eras gone – emerges from the darkness. Barry's breath comes in halting, painful gasps. His doppelganger says in a deep, sympathetic voice, "There was nothing I could do to stop this."

"I don't – I don't care. Just fix it. _Fix it_." Barry clutches Iris – Iris-Iris-Iris- _Iris_ – closer to his chest, refusing to surrender her for even a moment. "Take me, take me, do whatever – whatever you have to do."

The older Flash places a hand on his shoulder. "Barry."

" _Please_."

The hand clenches around the muscle. "I am so sorry."

He opens his eyes and finds grass and stars and the night he never wants to repeat and he leans to one side and vomits Speed.

. o .

The Speed Force is an ocean and he can barely carry his own weight, let alone hers, but he holds onto her, refusing to sink or swim, just holding on. "Please," he gasps, over the surf, underneath it as water fills his lungs. "Please, I know you're there, I know you're listening—"

He comes to and throws up more Speed.

. o .

The third time, the Speed Force appears as Joe standing on the front porch – a deeply sorrowful, but familiar version of Joe. Barry walks on his knees with Iris in his arms, pleading. _Begging_.

Speed-Joe walks towards him and he sinks back on his haunches. When he feels a hand on his shoulder, he bows his head. Relief shivers with catatonic joy through him. _Oh please, oh please, take it._

Speed-Joe asks, "Are you sure?"

Barry looks up, glowing golden eyes and knows exactly what he's offering. "Absolutely," he rasps.

Speed-Joe reaches forward and Barry's arms are locked, frozen around her, but they release their grip without conscious command. Joe sweeps his baby girl into his arms and holds her to his chest.

Barry sways, a sickness like darkness sweeping over him, and he feels the warmth leaching out of him. "Take it," he insists, "take all of it, take –" He can't stop a soft groan of pain as his own Speed begins to break away from him. He sinks farther into the grass, unable to lift his head, unable to see Iris or Speed-Joe anymore. Panic lurches through him, but he can't respond to it. He can't do anything.

He closes his eyes and can't move at all, and then he's gone, and Speed Force with him.

. o .

He's coughing violently in the grass before he realizes there's a hand on his shoulder, a warm hand, a hand that shouldn't be there, and he forces himself to straighten and gasps and gasps and gasps with relief because, " _Iris_ Iris Iris."

"Barry," she says, and she's so warm, or he's so cold, he's never been able to tell, but he forces himself to his knees, sweeping her into arms that would've been crushing ten minutes ago, sobbing into her hair. "Barry," she gasps.

"Iris," he sobs, and he hears a noise in the distance, running footsteps, full-tilt, pell-mell, and then Joe collapses beside them, and he hugs her tightly, and Iris turns to him and it's then Barry catches a glimpse of the gold around her and realizes, with stark, disbelieving surety, what has happened.

To prove it, he takes her hand and she squeezes it, and there is a spark between them that _does not belong to him_.

. o .

It's only later with Savitar clutching his chest, howling in agony, that Barry will realize how powerful severing his contact with the Speed Force could be.

Then he will take the sword and plunge it deep into Savitar's chest and reap the peace that was never-supposed-to-be-his.

. o .

Barry holds her, holds her even though he's barely strong enough without his Speed. He whispers, "I'm sorry."

She tangles a hand in his hair. "Barry," she whispers, like it is the only word she knows, and he closes his eyes, tears streaking down his face.

"I'm so, so sorry."

She holds him tightly to her. "I missed you," she murmurs. "Oh, God, I missed you." And then she's crying, too, and oh, baby, oh, Iris, _Iris_ , he's scrambling to sit up properly, to take on her weight, and Joe is still there, holding them both up, and he's shaking hard enough his shivers are almost like Speed.

Almost.

They get her to Joe's cruiser and no one can focus enough to drive so HR takes over and Iris holds onto Barry, hard enough to hurt, but he doesn't make a single sound of protest. _Break me if you must_ , he insists, clutching her. _Just don't let go._

She doesn't.

. o .

Savitar does not follow. Savitar can barely _stand_ , wherever-he-is.

. o .

They're sitting in a stationary car at STAR Labs unable to go any farther because the thought of letting go is unfathomable, untenable, and Barry's beating heart is slower than he's used to, and Iris' so much _faster_ , and still nothing in his world will process beyond the past twenty minutes.

 _I'm gonna go get our girl_ , he remembers telling Wally minutes – hours? – before.

He sobs and she crushes him against her and he aches to be crushed by her Speed Force before reality does it for him.

. o .

He remembers Cisco, at-some-point, but he cannot move.

He closes his eyes and prays for forgiveness for whatever comes to pass.

. o .

In the Cortex, Barry still hasn't let go of her. Joe doesn't want to, either, hugging her every six seconds, and Barry doesn't blame him at all. He can't express his relief, a gasping, jubilant, overwhelming thing. Too potent to be contained. Too red with grief unfelt and grief beyond words.

Every-nightmare-was-right-every-terrible-dream-came-true-every-vision-every- _effort_ —

The world breaks and he tumbles down the gaping chasm of unconsciousness.

. o .

Barry jerks upright, real-time.

Cisco is nearby, whimpering and holding his frostbitten hands, and _oh-Cisco-I'm-so-sorry_ , but his shoulders untense when Iris says, " _Barry_."

She's sitting next to him, right on the gurney, and HR seems speechless, and Tracy seems speechless, and Joe has not left her side.

Barry wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her. "I love you," he tells her, choked up, barely able to articulate the words. "I love you, I love you, I—"

"I love you," she replies, and he closes his eyes.

. o .

On Joe's couch, four-hours-after, Barry has his arms wrapped around her, her body so warm against him, Joe in his familiar chair, Wally with his bandaged leg braced on the coffee table, Tracy and HR in the kitchen making coffee, Cisco asleep on the floor.

No one needs to say it. All of them know.

 _We made it_.

Barry presses his forehead against Iris' shoulder. She tangles her fingers in his.

 _We made it_.

. o .

They drop off, one-by-one. Wally in his chair, Tracy and HR in the guest bedroom – even Joe dozes, head in hand.

Barry cannot join them. He is stupid with exhaustion, debilitated with a pain so raw he has only barely begun to feel it, _I wasn't fast enough_ beyond the scope of anything he can conjure.

When Iris closes her eyes, he panics, just a little, and accidentally shakes her awake before he thinks better of it, and the whole room stirs with her, and he apologizes in a broken voice.

"S'okay," she says, turning onto her side, facing the cushions, body settled between his legs, cheek-on-his-chest, and he lets her hug one of his arms numb when she falls asleep again.

. o .

He doesn't sleep at all, desperate to soak in every single breath, every single gentle rise-and-fall of Iris' chest, every aching confirmation of her existence.

 _I didn't lose you_ , he thinks, but it feels wrong, like acknowledging only one of four seasons.

 _I lost you,_ he amends, _but I brought you back_.

. o .

It's morning and he's exhausted and no one else is awake and he doesn't bother to call Singh to tell him he won't be in for work today.

. o .

That's how Julian finds out, and Wally drags himself to bleary consciousness and unwraps his leg, good-as-new, to greet him at the door. Cisco yawns his way through a stack of toast while Joe puts on coffee, and Barry cannot believe the world is his, the greyscale world of now is _real_.

Iris nuzzles his chest. He tries not to sob too openly.

She of-all-people deserves to rest.

. o .

It's a lot to take in.

"You gave me your Speed?" Iris asks, and Barry nods wearily. He has never felt so tired and so reluctant to sleep, simultaneously. _I won't ever let anyone take you again._ They're sitting on Joe's couch with coffee cups in hand and her pressed against his side, morning dawning, clarion-clear, out the windows.

He clears his throat and explains, "I did what I had to do."

She takes his hand and squeezes it. "Oh, Bar."

"I would do it again," he insists, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and she doesn't even think, just Flashes, and they're in his old bedroom and _wow_ , he will never get used to that from the other side, just there-and-gone, and then she's pressing him into the bed, kissing him, and he forgets to comment on it at all.

. o .

He sleeps for fourteen hours.

. o .

When Barry stands before it again days later with Cisco's grounding hand at his side, he tells the Speed Force, "Thank you."

The Speed Force coalesces into a wolf, pressing against his legs. Come Back To Me, it insists, and he fists its collar gently and does not respond.

. o .

One day, he knows, he'll find his own beating heart somewhere-out-there in the Speed Force.

But for now – cradling Iris in his arms, endless days and unmarked calendars ahead – he dares to embrace the future.


End file.
